


Leap Day

by Find_Me_Calling_You



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Armie Hammer has a piss kink and I will die on this hill, Desperation Play, Dom/sub Undertones, FaceTime Sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Omorashi, Phone Sex, Watersports, Wetting, golden showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22966261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Find_Me_Calling_You/pseuds/Find_Me_Calling_You
Summary: Armie's in New York.  Timmy's in Paris.  Armie's "hold-it" games are the stuff of legend, and he wants Timmy to play along.  How can he say no when they both want it so bad?
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 23
Kudos: 72





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isitandwonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitandwonder/gifts).



> This is 100%, completely, entirely isitandwonder's fault. Blame me if it sucks, but if it's hot, props to her because she gave me the idea.
> 
> Part 2 coming tomorrow!

On Leap Day, Timmy woke to the buzzing of his phone. Groaning, he rolled over, seeking five more minutes of sleep. When it buzzed again a moment later, he gave up and reached over, graceful fingers plucking it off the charger and opening his messages.

_Armie._ He couldn’t help smiling. Of course Armie was up in the middle of the damn night and texting him.

**Good morning gorgeous ;)**

**Gimme a call when you’re up yeah?**

**PS**

**I love you**

**< 3**

Glancing between the phone and the clock, he was debating showering first, knowing if he and Armie got to talking, he didn’t want to rush to get ready or say a frantic goodbye to Armie in his rush to get out the door.

**_If you’re still up, I’ll call you when I’m out of the shower. <3 I love you too._ **

Timmy tried to find the right balance of lingering under the warm spray, conditioning his hair properly, washing himself, letting the hot water beat down on his skin, turning it a soft pink. Predictably, a few minutes in, his bladder nagged him, full from tea, water, and maybe an extra glass or two of wine from the night before.

With a deep breath that rolled into a sigh, he let his body take over, relief coursing through him while his stream turned the water swirling down the drain a soft yellow. After the first few seconds of release, he found himself taking his cock in his hand, gently directing it up, feeling the stream, just a little cooler than the shower water, splashing over his skin, coursing down his belly and back down to the base of his cock and balls. The last time Armie had showered him this way, he’d pissed on Timmy’s nipples, and got exactly the reaction he was looking for. Timmy had always had sensitive nipples but even just a few seconds of Armie’s piss stream brushing them had gotten him to cry out and when Armie’s gushing stream returned to his groin, he couldn’t hold back and he came and came.

Splashing his own nipples, showering his own chest in piss was a poor substitute for the powerful stream of piss that came out of Armie when he really had to go, less a gentle stream but a pressure hose some days.

Timmy giggled to himself a little, feeling the last of his urine leave his body, trickling down his skin as he began stroking, sliding his thin fingers back and forth over the silky skin of his dick. Thinking of strong hands that almost spanned his waist sliding down and gripping him was enough to push him over the edge.

Rinsing his fingers of his come, and giving himself another quick wash for covering himself in piss. If he’d been at home, if he’d been with Armie, he would let the scent linger on his skin, Armie having marked him in such an intimate way.

Timmy barely had time to get the towel around his waist before his discarded phone started buzzing again, this time showing Armie’s gorgeous smile as an incoming call.

“Hey--ugh!” His still wet fingers slipped and his phone fell to the bathroom floor. “Fuck.”

“Good morning to you too.” Came Armie’s voice, filled with love and amusement, steady and warm, velvety and rich. Listening to Armie was one of his favorite things, even if Armie was laughing at him. “What’re you wearing?” Timmy rolled his eyes. Of course Armie wanted to have phone sex before he left for the show this morning.

“Not sure yet.” He answered lightly. “Nothing crazy. I got this awesome jacket the other night. But maybe a t-shirt, some white sneakers, the usual.” Timmy had to bite his lip, feigning innocence as a grin threatened to split his lips and allow the giggle building in his throat free.

“Fucker. So you’re naked and _not_ facetiming me?” Armie’s fake-offended voice ripped the giggle from him and he took the phone from his ear, pressing the button that brought Armie’s sleepy smirk onto his screen.

“Hi.” Timmy felt suddenly shy in all the raw affection in Armie’s expression, his eyes a serene blue that always reminded him of the sky in Crema.

“Hi yourself.” Armie grinned before raising his eyebrows a little. “God I could look at you all day, every day, for the rest of my life.” Timmy flushed but didn’t try to shoo the compliment away, getting a little better all the time at accepting all the praise Armie showered him with. He managed a grin, reaching out to expand Armie’s view of his body, from the elegant lines of his long neck, water clinging to his collarbones, shoulders, pink little nipples, and smooth belly, tiny waist and the nest of short curls around the base of his cock. He left his cock mostly off screen as Armie swore and the image shook, Armie obviously reaching down to palm himself. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy, Tim. I swear. I want to put you over that chaise near the window and fuck you till the whole street knows your mine. Whose big cock is splitting you open, fucking claiming you.”

Timmy groaned and reached down, gripping himself, half hard from the soft pants escaping Armie’s lips and crossing the atlantic to raise goosebumps on his skin.

“Armie, I don’t know if I have time…”

“You’d make time if I was there, wouldn’t you? C’mon baby, I know how fast you come when that dirty little mind of yours starts working.” Timmy groaned that Armie knew him so well, staggering across the room, pumping his cock and falling onto the chaise Armie had mentioned. Timmy had texted him the photo of the room and Armie sent back an annotated version of the same photo, indicating where and how he would fuck him all over the room. 

Timmy had sent him a photo of his cock immediately post-orgasm, swollen, resting against his belly, skin smeared and splattered with cum and sweat.

Armie texted him back a handful of soiled napkins with the caption “literally the only thing I could find on such short notice because it took all of 30 seconds to come. How the fuck do you do that to me?” And Timmy had been both proud, pleased with himself, and also touched that he could strip away so many of Armie’s walls with just a dick pic.

Relaxing into the lush fabric and soft cushioning on the chaise, he continued stroking himself, balancing his phone against his thigh to make sure Armie had a good view.

“Fuck yes, baby. God I love your cock. Wish I could be there to suck you. Want to taste your skin.” Armie’s voice came through with grunts, soft pants occasionally cutting off his words. He’d turned his camera and showed Timmy the front of his sweatpants, the outline of his big, thick cock, the damp spot obvious near the head _Jesus, he could practically see Armie’s slit with how fucking thin those pants were._ Towel quickly discarded but basking in the morning sun, Timmy let out a low moan, stroking himself faster, teasing the head with a little squeeze and twist, thumbing his slit to smear the steady stream of pre-cum on his skin.

“Yeah baby, just like that. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to suck me.” Timmy could give plenty of his own dirty talk but when Armie was in his element, he let it go.

“Just suck you? You want me to tell you how I’m fucking drooling for that pretty cock, baby boy? How I want to be hoarse on stage and let you fuck my face until you came down my throat.”

“Yes, yes, all of that.” Timmy began to feel his balls draw up, his orgasm building slowly after his shower wanking. “What would you do to me?”

“Definitely suck you off, but pull off because I have a better way to make you come. Fuck.” A pleasure-pained gasp from Armie caught Timmy’s attention. “I’m so hard baby, but, ugh, I just can’t hold it anymore. I wish I were there to piss on your skin, mark you with my scent so everyone knew exactly who you belonged to in every fucking way.” And then a steady spread of dark grey across the crotch of Armie’s sweatpants, his stream forceful enough for a flow of golden liquid to pass through the fabric, coursing down over his hip as Armie moaned out his relief.

“Oh, Armie, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Timmy chanted, trying not to close his eyes but unable to fight his instincts as his orgasm slammed into him like a freight train, his body convulsing as he cried out, coming hard all over his fist as he listened to the hiss of Armie’s pee soaking his sweatpants and sheets.

Armie was making the most lovely humming noises, gasping out when he’d stroke his fingers over his still pissing cock, wrapping it in the wet fabric it continued to flood out of. A few strokes and he freed it from the sweatpants, letting Timmy see the urine splatter on his skin before a moan escaped Armie and with two quick strokes, his piss stream was replaced by thick, bursts of creamy cum, dripping down the backs of Armie’s fingers, landing on the skin of his belly. As soon as the last aftershocks stopped pulsing along the muscles in his groin, there came a gentle groan and Timmy watched as his cock began to piss again.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Timmy whispered. “My beautiful, sexy man.” Armie’s screen flicked to his contented smile and blissed out face before his eyes rolled up and the view rolled back to Armie’s still dribbling cock. “Fuck, you really had to piss.” Timmy’s mouth dries up and he internally shushes the tingles of arousal that spark along his skin. 

***

Armie’s holding games had stretched his bladder capacity to the stuff of legend. Timmy loved every day they spent cuddling around the apartment, doing mundane chores, catching up on laundry, commenting on scripts coming in to each other. Watching TV, napping, goofing around on social media. And Timmy would pee a few times throughout the day and sometimes Armie did too. But there were days when Armie was obviously playing a game with himself. A chore completed was another glass of water drunk. He’d drink at least two beers if they watched a movie. By late afternoon, his behaviors had escalated from completely normal to tense, to fidgeting and pinching his cock through his jeans. Then pacing and shaking, and trying so hard to focus his way through at least one more chore before he gave in. Timmy loved to watch Armie take apart his own control, pushing himself to his body’s limits and then some. To watch his composed older lover tear himself apart, fighting his most base instincts before indulging profoundly.

Armie’s low belly would be distended and his legs almost spastic with tension before he let himself go. And oh how he would go. Timmy had watched him wet in the kitchen once. The water as he did the dishes doing nothing to cover the sound of his piss as it poured out of his khaki shorts, saturating their kitchen rug. When the rug was soaked and piss began to pool at the edges of the rug, Timmy had come in his pants. He wanted that piss.

Armie was gentle with himself for the rest of the evening. They may have pissed together in the shower then stroked their cocks against each other, covering their groins in the most intimate of fluids. Armie would also make it a point to drink a little more water and piss when he needed to for the next several hours, letting his body recover.

The next time Armie played one of these games, they’d been out running errands and by the time they were home, Armie had his hand in his boxers, desperately squeezing his cock and trying to pretend the palm sized wet patch wasn’t on the front of his pants.

Abandoning their groceries, Timmy had followed him hot, lingering outside the bathroom door as Armie’s stream burst out and gushed into the toilet, powerful and fast and so obviously relieving by the whimpers and pleasured noises Armie was making. Tim checked his watch. Armie had pissed for nearly a minute and a half. He had to have that piss on him.

And so the next holding game Armie played with himself, this time at an event, when Armie hit the point of not being able to wait anymore, they’d escaped to the alley behind the building and Armie staggered, rushing to get his cock out before he wet the expensive suit he was wearing. But Timmy was unburdened by his bladder and quicker, turning Armie, taking advantage of his slip in balance and slamming his back to the wall before dropping to his knees, helping Armie free himself at last.

“Tim.” Armie’s voice broke as the first weak stream escaped his tight control. Timmy stroked his thighs, kneeling in front of him, kissing the piss-wet head of his cock before nuzzling at it gently, tongue teasing lightly against his skin, inhaling the sweaty musk of Armie’s groin, moaning low when another gush escaped and soaked the shoulder of Timmy’s suit. “I...Tim, I can’t just…” Armie sounded like he was being torn apart.

“Do you need to use your safe word?” Timmy wanted this so badly, and he knew that there was a part of Armie that wanted this so badly ever since he’d finally broken down in Crema one night and told Timmy some of his darkest fantasies. But he wouldn’t push. If it was too much for Armie…

“No, no, I...are you sure?” Armie sounded impossibly young and Timmy nodded.

“Absolutely sure.” Another kiss to Armie’s dribbling cock, hands stroking up and over the swell of his low belly, full and hard as a rock underneath Armie’s abdominal muscles. “Just let it out. I want this, I want _you,_ I _need you_ so fucking much right now.” A deep breath then whispering, “Piss on me, you beautiful man.”

And the dam broke. A flood of golden liquid poured over his shoulder, soaking his back, wetting his suit jacket and the silky dress shirt underneath. Timmy moved just enough that Armie’s stream crossed his chest, saturating the thin material to his skin, moaning at the heat of Armie’s piss and the way Armie just looked so utterly undone, hair wild, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed as he continued to soak his lover with his piss.

Timmy stared for a second at the way his slit opened wide to let all the fluid through, torrent fast and not fast enough at all. Before he could catch himself, he lunged forward, brushing his cheek against the head, hearing Armie positively squeak above him, trying to squirm away but Timmy was faster, closing his lips around the head, letting Armie fill his mouth before he pulled back. Armie was staring at him in shock and Timmy stared right back, keeping his eyes soft as he showed Armie the mouthful of piss and promptly swallowed it. It hadn’t tasted terrible. Salt-bitter with a bit of a tang, too strong a flavor for the burning temperature at which it left Armie’s body. Drinking it too often wouldn’t be a good idea, but Timmy shivered at the idea of being Armie’s relief, at getting all of that golden liquid to sustain him. He wanted to drink from him every day for the rest of his life.

Armie’s stream finally started to die off and Timmy was soaked. His top, his front, his pants. Everything thoroughly marked as Armie’s even his skin, and now his insides.

But as Timmy stood up, his suit pulling across his skin, Armie groaned, finally coming back to himself and turning them fast enough to make Timmy dizzy as it was now his back pressed to the wall. Armie’s hips desperately rutted against the warm, wet fabric on his hip before he came with a growl and bit down hard on the exposed skin of Timmy’s pale neck. The shock of pain that went through him from the bite, and the knowledge that Armie had been so desperately turned on by what they did was enough to get him off, moaning into Armie’s shoulder as he came in his already ruined pants with just a few thrusts against Armie’s thigh.

They hadn’t talked about it then. By the grace of God, they found an Uber driver that didn’t ask questions when presented with a very large cash tip from an apologetic Armie. At home they’d showered, Timmy gently petting Armie’s belly and cock as he let another long stream of piss go in the shower. They were both too raw to get hard again but they never stopped touching each other, curling into bed together early and warm, Timmy cuddled close against Armie’s chest.

“It didn’t make you feel disgusting that I pissed on your face?” Timmy shook his head.

“Definitely not. It was a new experience but I enjoyed it. I’d be open to you doing it again.” Armie turned scarlet and hid his face in his pillow. “Honey, no.” Timmy pulled the pillow away and settled his forehead against Armie’s, nose to nose, chin to chin. “If it’s too much for you, I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” And then he’d kissed Armie, who responded by hugging him fiercely until they fell asleep.

***

“Where did you go just now?” Armie’s voice was warm and amused, watching Timmy float back from his post-orgasm musings. “You’re going to be late if you don’t get dressed, so tell me what you’re wearing today.”

Fuck, Armie was right. Setting his phone on the dresser, propped up so Armie could see what he pulled out of his duffle bag.

“These new sneakers, and...I think just this plain white shirt.” He knew Armie loved that shirt, the way it showed off his slender arms and a hint of collarbone.

“Mmm.” Armie hummed appreciatively, and Timmy wished for only about the 4000th time today that Armie was actually here with him. “What about pants?”

“Ummm…” Timmy mumbled and bit his lip before digging out one of his new favorite pairs. Soft brushed velvet designed to look like denim, snug and baggy all at once, unique but still ultra modern and stylish. “These?”

“Fuck yeah, baby.” Armie was grinning. “Especially because I want you to be a good boy for me today.” Timmy’s stomach flipped but not in an entirely unpleasant way. He knew what Armie was getting at. It had taken Armie about a week and a half, and a couple more times pissing all over Timmy’s designer leisurewear to finally admit that he kind of wanted Timmy to piss in his own fancy clothes, if he was willing, because if not, it was totally fine, and let me know if it’s too much that I keep peeing on your expensive stuff and Timmy had hushed him with a kiss.

The next time they’d been anywhere formal and Tim was in a slim cut tux, he cut his eyes over to Armie on the limo ride home through LA traffic.

“Um, I really have to pee. There’s no way I can hold it till we’re home.” Armie turned red again and glanced at him, brows furrowed as if trying to figure out exactly how to proceed. “Do you want to watch me if I go in my pants?” Armie’s eyes glazed over, his mouth hanging open slightly as Timmy knelt on the floor in front of him. He really did have to piss but he still played it up by humming and grabbing his crotch. Armie’s pants were about to explode in the front if that giant fucking dick of his got any harder. “Oh…” And he let go, sighing as the gentle feeling of relief ran over him, a wave of heat, soaking his designer undies, the rich fabric of his tux pants, and when it had started to pool on the carpet, Armie finally snapped, flipping him over before he was even done pissing, ripping his pants down, and thrusting into him frantically, coming as the last drops of piss left Timmy’s cock. 

When they got home, Armie had fucked him frantically, whispering reverent little half-sentences against his skin every time he milked an orgasm from his young lover’s body. Moaning out words of love as he filled Timmy with so much come it was running down his legs by the time they went to bed, filthy and sated.

***

“How good do you want me to be?” Timmy teased, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend. Armie grinned and blushed a little, still struggling sometimes with putting his wants into words.

“I want you to stay nice and hydrated.” _No turning down drinks._ “But wait till you get home to use the bathroom. It’s only for a few hours, right? You’ll be fine holding it.” Timmy wanted to correct him, mentioned he’d be there for five or six hours, that champagne would possibly be flowing backstage or when he went to hang out with his favorite designers, but his cock was already twitching at the idea of going all day without pissing, holding it in and functioning through such a high-profile event while Armie, even so far away, would be, in a sense, right there with him, teasing, riling him up, controlling him, making him squirm until Timmy couldn’t be sure if it was arousal or desperation.

Challenge happily accepted but Timmy wanted to tease.

“You really have that much faith in me?” Armie’s easy smile answered, the love in his eyes unmistakable as Timmy leaned on the dresser to stare into the little screen.

“I do. And I know how much you like to be good for me.” Timmy’s eyes rolled back as he shivered. “Mmm. And I might even send you some presents if you’re good.” Timmy was definitely half-hard again. Armie’s presents were usually more ways for Armie to wind him up from afar and usually led to lots of wonderful opportunities for extremely graphic phone sex.

“I think I could behave for some presents.” Timmy tossed his ruffled curls as he pulled on the velvet pants. Enjoying the tiny ' _shit, Tim_ ,' that Armie let out. “I do really need to head out now, but I promise I’ll be good.”

“Okay baby.” Armie’s smile was equal parts excited, turned on, and affectionate. Timmy loved how expressive his face was when he wasn’t hiding. “Don’t forget to have a glass of water before you go.” Timmy rolled his eyes and was met with an arch of Armie’s left brow that sent tingles down his spine from his neck to his sacrum and across his pelvis to his groin.”

“Okay, okay.” He took a bottle from the minifridge and brought it to in front of his phone, enjoying the cool liquid sloshing refreshingly down his throat that was still so parched from being in the shower, and all the panting during his jerk-off session with Armie.

“Good boy. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Timmy blew a kiss at the phone and Armie reached up as if catching it, putting it to his face, the two of them still smiling as Timmy ended the call, the time flashing up on his screen. “Shit!” He was really going to be late. He grabbed his backpack and jacket, rushing from the room and scrambling down the hallway and to the elevator.

He almost tripped out of the elevator in his rush to the lobby exit, settling to a calmer pace, not quite surprised to finding Brian and Peter there waiting for him. They had been in Paris for a long weekend and mentioned wanting to check on him and see him.

“It’s so good to see you both.” Timmy wrapped them in quick hugs.

“Yes, who else would keep you in line?” Brian said in his dry way, but a tiny bit of amusement in his eyes. He could never be that harsh on Timmy. Peter passed Timmy a large cappuccino and Timmy immediately wanted to melt.

“Yesss. Thank you very much! This is exactly what I needed.”

“In addition to a ride.” Brian supplied and Timmy stuck his tongue out at him as they exited the lobby and got into the car Brian had obviously hired for them. Lightly chatting, Timmy drifted away as Paris flew by them, sipping on his cappuccino.

It was going to be a long day.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy's playing a hold-it game for Armie, but will he last until he's back at the hotel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this is too long or not enough so... *updates and promptly runs away*

It wasn’t terribly long to get to the venue, but it still gave Timmy enough time to reorganize his backpack and throw his sweater and coat on to fight the chill of the morning air. And plenty of time to finish his cappuccino. Brian noticed and offered a small water bottle from the center console. Normally, Timmy would have declined but after this morning, it felt like Armie was watching him, lurking just out of sight to determine if he needed to punish Timmy.

It took everything he had to suppress a shiver at the thought of Armie’s punishment. Chugging the water down so he wouldn’t be caught on the red carpet looking for a recycling bin, he had to be careful swallowing and breathing, imagining Armie’s big hand closing around his arm, that dark, rumbling voice in his ear. Armie using his size and weight to maneuver Timmy onto his hands and knees, telling him to drop trow before slapping Tim’s ass, hard enough to sting, even bruise, the crack echoing through the room.

Brian raised an eyebrow at his red cheeks and he looked away.

“Sorry, thinking.”

“Of your paramour, yes.” Brian in general was less than thrilled with Armie, still resentful of the amount of work he had to put in to avoid them being caught fucking like bunnies in so many inappropriate places throughout all the Call Me by Your Name promo. 

Or maybe it was the time he barged into Timmy’s dressing room to clarify something about an interview scheduled for later. Timmy had been laid across the arm of the couch, hands dangling from the armrest, pulled together by Armie’s belt, his cock swollen and leaking heavily on the upholstery while Armie ate his ass with a thorough, relentless enthusiasm.

“Enough you two! I’d prefer not anywhere, but most definitely not here!” Timmy had blushed, squirmed like he wanted to cover his cock but Armie punched his tongue through his tight little pink pucker and fucking _flicked_ it against his inner walls, making Timmy moan loudly, bringing him back into the haze of pleasure Armie could put him in so easily.

“Give us ten minutes, yeah?” Armie said casually, tongue laying teasing little licks to Timmy’s hole. But he was using the voice he used when he Dommed and Timmy groaned, leaking another rush of pre-cum onto the couch. Armie had been teasing him all morning and Timmy desperately wanted to come, but Armie hadn’t given permission yet.

It was also the very clear tone of, _Fuck off, I’m doing what I want right now and you can’t stop me because I’m 6’5” and will toss your ass into an express mail box right back to the States, so leave me alone to eat my boyfriend’s delicious ass. Thank you, bye._

Brian had sputtered but knew he lost the fight and as soon as he’d left the room, Armie promptly got Timmy off with just his mouth on his ass. Licking the little pink pucker that was still trembling, cheeks resting between the pert little globes of Timmy’s ass, Armie had quickly undone his pants, needing little time at all, coming hard as he breathed in the scent of Timmy’s musk and sweat, the hints of earthiness that lingered on his taint.

They’d been out and ready to meet Brian in about eight minutes. Timmy’s hair was wild, and his face was practically screaming “freshly fucked.” But Armie was just smirking, licking his swollen lips every time he caught Timmy’s eyes and making the younger man bite back little groans into whimpers, already getting sucked back into the intoxicating world that was sex with Armie.

Brian had huffed, thrust a freshly printed schedule at them, and didn’t talk to them for the next three days.

“He’s my boyfriend, and hopefully my future husband.” Tim corrected, smiling serenely as they approached the entrance where Timmy could be dropped off.

“Keep that to yourself at least until the rest of the world knows Armie’s separating and getting divorced.” Brian’s voice had just a mild scolding in it but Peter gave him a sympathetic look and squeezed his knee, as if just to say “Be patient.”

Timmy was very good at being patient, but he knew today would test both his patience and control. He already felt a hint of pressure building in his groin, nothing painful or desperate, just the sense of  _ I should probably piss if I get a moment. _ Nothing urgent.

“Thanks for the ride, guys.” He hops out before Brian can fuss at him for anything else, throwing his dark glasses on over his eyes, partially to shield his vision from the intensity of the flashes going off around him, but also to hide his anxiety, and not let anyone dwell on his expression. Armie had told him that he could see every fucking part of Timmy’s soul in his eyes and ever since that was whispered against his skin, the only person he really ever wanted to look in his eyes was Armie.

As soon as he was inside, he checked his backpack at the door, hung his sunglasses off the neck of his sweater. He’d probably shed that soon enough but first, he needed to see Haider.

As soon as he slipped backstage, he immediately spotted the designer, making his way over and watching the older man’s face light up. 

“ _Timothée! Bonjour, ma douce petite pêche! Les friandises pour vous aujourd'hui!_ ” They embraced, pressing firm kisses to each other’s cheeks. Haider loved every time Timmy wore one of his pieces, gushing about Timmy’s deeply sensual and androgynous beauty, and how he was the ideal of any person he ever could have dressed. “I’m so glad you came today, I even saved you a space in the front row.” Haider clapped his hands with barely restrained joy and Timmy blushed.

“You didn’t need to waste a good seat like that on me.” Timmy ducked his head and the designer clucked at him, scolding.

“No, no, no. To not have you present would be in the worst of tastes. You not only belong in the front row but walking the collection.” He swung his arm’s out with great enthusiasm and his ever present PA ducked under his arm with a grin, embracing Timmy with one arm and pressing a very full glass of champagne into his other hand.

“ _Bonjour, Timothée_!” Mila grinned. “Thank you for coming to celebrate with us.”

“Thank you for letting me be here.” Timmy truly felt honored that a designer had invited him so personally, especially one he was so fond of. Mila kept a light hand on his hip as Timmy took a long sip of champagne, watching Haider fuss and fluff the models into perfect shape for the runway.

“Forgive his enthusiasm,” Mila began but Timmy shook his head.

“I love that he cares so much about his work. It’s truly art. Wearable art.” Timmy practically murmured. He never knew quite what to say, his French out of practice and a little rustier than usual. Every time he was in LA with Armie, he usually spent a good portion of a couple days with Nick pretending to ignore him unless he spoke to him in French or Italian. It wasn’t perfect but it allowed him to at least speak French a little more frequently, and it helped him retain all the Italian he’d learned for CMBYN. It had been quite some time since he’d gotten to spend a good portion of time with Nick, who was usually tasked with raising the kids when Elizabeth had them, which recently seemed to be all the time lately.

Timmy swallowed down the rest of his champagne and another of Haider’s assistants brought him a new glass as Mila went to resolve the latest catastrophe, speaking rapid French and some Spanish, helping the designer put the finishing touches on his models.

Timmy stared warily at the glass of champagne. These were very generous pours and between the coffee and alcohol, he couldn’t quite gauge how he would last holding on until it was time to leave. The gentle pressure behind his pubic bone had quietly been increasing, his cock twitching in his pants. The show had to start soon, right? He clenched his groin muscles slightly as if to send a reminder to his filling bladder that now was most definitely not time to pee.

His phone buzzed and he glanced at it, instantly comforted seeing who had texted him.

**I know you’re being so good for me, baby. I can’t wait to see you all squirmy as you get full ;)**

Timmy blushed but couldn’t help smiling, taking a quick selfie with his glass of champagne, then a boomerang of him practically chugging it down. He sent the photos and a heart emoji to Armie.

**Fuck you’re beautiful. The way your neck moves when you swallow, God I love that. I can’t even look at you some days without imagining that throat swallowing down all my cum, or those deep gulps when you wanna drink my piss. And those pretty pink lips on the edge of that glass, I fucking love your face. I love your jawline, those cheekbones, those curls. My amazing, devastatingly sexy good boy.**

Timmy blushed fiercely, but couldn’t help feeling comforted by Armie’s words, as if all the praise Armie gave him via text was settling around him like an imaginary hug or shield, ready to keep him safe. He still had to pee, but it felt much more manageable now. 

Using the moments of chaos before the show begins, he discards his empty glass on a table and slips through the curtains and to the front row. He had left his jacket backstage but tossed his sunglasses over his eyes again, trying to project cool and calm when really he felt as if everyone was watching him. He hated feeling like that when he was all alone. With Armie, he felt invincible and he missed him terribly.

He was pleased to be seated next to an older woman, it took a moment to recognize her, but the widow of Balthus, and an accomplished painter herself, Setsuko Klossowska de Rola. They posed for a few photos and settled into a respectful silence that felt surprisingly safe.

Nervous and fidgeting, he put a shot of his shoes on Instagram and texted Armie.

**_I promise I’m trying to be good, but do you have any idea how much they’re going to make me drink? ;P_ **

The lights dimmed and despite a slow wave of urgency from his bladder, he hushed the swelling need, spreading his legs and doing what he could to avoid sitting in a way that wouldn’t make him any more desperate.

He did his best to focus on the show, admiring the shimmering fabrics and artful cuts of the collection, but his mind kept wandering. Every few minutes, the urge to squirm had to be resisted, pressure continuing to build behind the base of his penis. He definitely wasn’t desperate yet, and oh how Armie loved to see him desperate, the two glasses of champagne had pushed him from pleasant fullness to urgent need.

He counted the seconds till the show ended, standing and loudly applauding the collection, pretending to snatch the kiss and wink Haider blew to him out of thin air.

The lights went on and with a small nod and smile shared with Setsuko, he made his way through the crowd. Armie had been texting him through the show, but it would have been rude to sneak a look at his phone. Passing the restrooms, he tried not to shiver, thighs tensing, pelvic muscles squeezing tight, trying to put less pressure on his bladder. But the doors were propped open, and he could swear he heard the steady streams of piss into urinals or toilets. But maybe he was just imagining things because he couldn’t sneak in there to do just the same.

Just before the same entrance he slipped through earlier, he took his phone out.

**Mmm, you’re always gorgeous and tipsy after these things so I’m sure they’re treating you to *lots* of good wine.**

**Make sure you drink enough water. Don’t want you getting a headache.**

**Do let me know if it’s too much.**

**But**

**I want to see you fucking desperate, I want you on the verge of pissing yourself.**

**Love to hear you beg. Love the noises you make.**

**I wish I was there with you.**

It was hard for Timmy to smile, it felt like all the muscles in his body were starting to tighten as the ache low in his belly got heavier and heavier. Armie always wanted him to feel safe and secure first and that gave him the boost of strength he needed to make it through the curtain, again immediately being offered champagne.

After each glass,  _ was he on 3 or 4 now?  _ After each glass, he got a little braver, a little looser, and a little more squirmy. He meandered through the various designers, laughing with the occasional acquaintances he saw every year at Fashion Week. It was a good time to hang out with other boys who wanted to exist as more than “pretty” but also get a chance to be playful and pretty because that’s what plenty of the guests were.

By the time he reached Stella McCartney, he had snagged a water bottle, chugging it down, the headache he felt coming on fading away softly. And once he had a chance to catch his breath from the giddy, blurry haze he’d just escaped.

_ Fuck! _ Timmy felt his dick twitch and the tiny squirt of pee escape from the tip. It couldn’t be more than a few drops, but clenching on his pelvic muscles just made him want to hop in place. Squirming his thighs past each other a few times, he took a deep breath, trying to make it obvious it was getting to the point where he  _ really _ had to pee.

Armie’s last text had been two hours ago but Timmy knew he would still be up. 

**_I really REALLY need to pee. How desperate do you want me?_ **

**If you can still ask me that, you’re not there yet ;)**

Timmy groaned but put on his brave face, smiled and made his way to greet Stella, who lit up when she saw him.

“Timmy! It’s so good to see you. How’s everything?” Timmy opened his mouth to answer but Stella had already marched across the room, returning with the fluffiest looking grey muppet of a coat he’d ever seen.

“Try this on! Come on, it’ll look really good on you. You’re so gorgeous you can pull off anything you want to wear. So…” She waved her hands lightly at him, encouragement to wrap himself in the coat.

Taking a quick photo for instagram, his initial thought was that he looked ridiculous, but as he let the impressions of the coat settle in on him, he turned slightly, twisting his hips to the side. It was very cozy, a potential security blanket from the outside world. And he felt so cozy and  _ oh shit! _

A gush of urine escaped the head of his cock, wetting his underwear. He unzipped the coat with his back to Stella, finding only the smallest hint of wetness on his pants.

“Isn’t it perfect?” She popped up behind him and the shock allowed another, thankfully smaller squirt of urine to escape.

“Yeah, I just…” He floundered, trying to create a response while also trying really, really hard not to pee on himself in her setup. Now that his bladder tasted relief, it seemed to spasm, squeezing and protesting against the obscene amount of liquid he’d put into his body since he left the hotel those hours ago. His desperation had snuck up on him going from  _ really need to pee _ , to  _ PEE NOW _ . Sensing his distress in some way, Stella patted him on the cheek in the warmest, most motherly way.

“I’ll have it sent to your hotel so you don’t have to wrestle it out of here.” Timmy tried to show his relief as much as he could without prompting some actual relief. It was approaching time to go but it would be nearly at least an hour before his ride got here.

He managed to make his way through a few minutes of light conversation with Stella. A quick hug and he turned away, trying not to let it show to the rest of the world that another spurt of piss escaped his cock, warming the wet fabric at his crotch. He knew he couldn’t grab himself in public so he did his best to discreetly trap his penis between the pressure of his thighs, scrubbing a hand over his face as the next wave of urgency passed.

He took a quick photo of his crotch and promptly sent it to Armie, the wet spots clearly dark and lightly shining against the velvet texture of his pseudo-jeans.

**Fuck yeah baby**

**I wish I could be there**

**Suck on your designer pants while you leak into that rich fabric**

**Fuck**

**Fuck**

A photo of Armie’s massive cock, dripping pre-cum as Armie’s fingers wrapped around it.

**Do you see what you fucking do to me?**

**Baby**

Timmy fought back a groan. He was still trying to be so good, especially when he was getting this kind of response from Armie. Armie who had stayed up all night despite his performance later tonight, just so they could play these games and turn each other on continents apart. But holy shit, he  _ had _ to  _ piss. _

Walking through the venue, much stiffer and regrettably slower. He attempted to cut through a pathway to get his jacket and backpack but it was along one of the press areas and he was immediately greeted with hundreds of flashes, people screaming his name, and he could do little but make a few awkward steps, try to smile, wave. Pretend there wasn’t another squirt of warmth on his dick.

Despite how awkward it seemed, he just nodded, mentioning he was going method to play Bob Dylan, unsure of how he pulled that out of his ass on the fly. Armie’s bullshitting must be rubbing off on him.

It had warmed up substantially in the main hall and as soon as Timmy had his jacket stuffed in his backpack, he sat down on the most secluded bench he could find, crossing his legs, but not before another quick snap of his wet lap. God, it had to be so obvious. He’d dressed left today so the front across that hip was a darker blue, thankfully only going shiny when he dribbled a little more piss.

As soon as the picture was sent, Armie’s came near immediately.

**Color?**

Timmy took a deep breath, doing the best he could to attain the peace and patience he needed to honestly evaluate himself.

**_Green_ **

**_I just have to go so fucking bad and I don’t think I can wait till the car gets back. I’m already peeing on myself and it just keeps leaking out._ **

**Is there a back entrance to the venue?**

Crossed legs frantically bouncing now, he did his best to bring up maps, screenshotting the satellite view and drawing an arrow to indicate where the back stairs let out. He sent it to Armie, and while it looked like it had been received, there was no response yet.

Closing his eyes and resting his head against the pillar behind the bench, he did the best he could to control the raging waves of liquid rolling around his pelvis and pushing against his groin, pelvic muscles spasming and straining to contain it. Another spurt leaked out and Timmy had to grab himself. To his mild horror, his cock was already getting hard, twitching against his palm. He knew it would feel amazing when he finally pissed, but he didn’t really want to share that with a crowd, just Armie.

His phone buzzed and he checked it immediately.

**Got you a ride at the back entrance, 20 minutes.**

Timmy desperately wanted to ask questions, but Armie had gotten him an escape route. He couldn’t waste any time. Backpack and sunglasses on, he tried to look as purposeful as he could making his way towards the back stairs with as much intent and determination he could project when really he was barely holding onto his control. All the liquid he’d had throughout the day was starting to catch up to him. The pressure pain turned into a burning at the base of his penis and he lost another squirt of piss into his pants.

_ Not good, not good _ . He was on the verge of pissing himself, but he was barely halfway through the building. He did see the central stairs though. Pushing through him, he was greeted with another round of flashing light and clamors for his attention. He tipped his chin up, gave them the best smirk he could manage despite every muscle in his belly tight to control his aching, bursting bladder. When he’d spent enough time that he could politely leave, he nodded to the crowd, holding onto his backpack straps as he escaped down the stairs. He made it two floors down, the floor the back exit was on and oh,  _ no.  _

_ No, no, no. _

He grabbed his cock but he couldn’t fight the pressure of his bladder anymore and let a torrent of piss free from his body, warming the inside of his thigh, running down his leg, an uneven wetness thanks to all the folds of the fabric.

Miraculously, he managed to stop it after a few relieving seconds, but rather than buying him time, he felt like he couldn’t wait a second longer. Bursting through the door and into the hallway, he made his way towards the back of the building, grabbing, squirming, rocking, doing anything and everything to keep the piss in. He freed a hand, texted Armie.

**_Yellow_ **

The phone immediately lit up with an incoming FaceTime, when Timmy’s trembling fingers managed to answer, Armie’s face filled the screen, eyes still dark with arousal but brows furrowed in worry.

“Baby. Are you okay? You’re crying.” Timmy hadn’t realized there were tears leaking out of his eyes, too focused on the hot liquid trying to squeeze its way out of his cock.

“I can’t hold it!” Timmy tried to keep his voice down but it came out as a wail as he lost in fighting back another stream of relief. “Oh my God, Armie, please, please, please.”

“Timmy.” Armie’s Dom voice snapped him back to the present, to his worried boyfriend. “Is there somewhere private, anywhere private where you are?”

“Um,” Timmy finally had a chance to look around and saw a small door labelled  _ Salon du personnel _ , adorned with a sign that said  _ Salon fermé. Salle de pause maintenant au sous-sol. Je vous remercie.  _ Abandoned staff lounge. Perfect.

_Oh God_ , more piss was trying to escape and thankfully the door swung open, revealing an outdated kitchen and a few old tables. His hand fumbled across the light switch as the door shut behind him.

“Armie.  _ Daddy _ . I have to go so bad.” He heard Armie’s choked gasp and saw his eyes glaze over briefly before a shake of the head cleared him to look at Timmy, smiling gently.

“You’re so good, baby. So fucking good for me. But it’s okay now. I want you to let all that piss out. Right now. C’mon baby, it’s okay.” Armie’s voice was soft and patient, measured calm. Timmy wanted to protest, wanted to complain that there was nowhere here for him to pee, but before he could even think--

“No, no, no, noooo.” His bladder finally gave out, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. A flood of urine coursed down the front of his pants, wetting his legs, his socks, pouring out onto the floor. He wanted to fight it, but it was like his muscles down there weren’t working anymore, nothing to hold back the hours and hours of liquid he had been trying to fight. He couldn’t put words to his feelings, especially still holding the phone where Armie could see his wet pants, the tears of just  _ relief _ running down his cheeks.

“That’s it, baby. You’re amazing, Tim. You’re so fucking perfect. So good to me, so, so good. You always do exactly what I want you to do. How did I ever get so lucky, mm? Beautiful...beautiful.” Armie murmured to him, slow and steady but between words, he was panting, letting out little grunts, indications he was touching himself. “I bet that feels so good, baby. Relax, let it all go. Good boy.”

The longer he pissed, the more his nearly-painful desperation gave way to a bone deep relaxation that made him want to melt into the puddle he’d created on the floor. It felt so, so good to finally pee. He was light, floating, falling into the pleasure of release after so much control, his piss still hissing into his pants as he began to palm his cock, still mostly hard from before.

“That’s it baby. It feels so good, right? You can touch your pretty cock. Stroke it, no, through your pants, oh, that’s exactly it. My good boy, that must feel so good.”

As the last of his piss escapes, leaving nothing behind but bliss and wet warmth, Timmy gasps, realizing he’s already so close to coming, swollen and sensitive and aching. He cuts his eyes to the screen, where Armie’s panting, openly giving Timmy a view of his straining cock as he works it, giving the head a tiny squeeze-twist like he likes, but also clamping around the base, trying to hold back.

“May I come please?” Timmy barely recognizes his own voice, but he knows exactly what Armie will say.

“Yes, Timmy. Yes, baby, fuck, come for me, let it go, that’s it…” Armie continues muttering encouragement as Timmy goes off in his soaked pants, splattering sticky warmth into the fabric as it clings to his cock. “That’s it, that’s my good boy.” A low moan escapes Armie’s mouth and Timmy has just enough strength left to focus on the screen, watching Armie come in thick spurts over his fingers, his wrist, settling into the nest of dark blonde curls at his groin and the golden strands that paint his thighs. “Baby.”

“I’m here.” Timmy whispers back, feeling as taken apart as Armie sounds right now, managing to pant out words between deep breaths. “I love you.”

“I love you so much, too, Timmy. So, so much. You’re amazing, Jesus Christ, you’re perfect.” Armie is looking at him with so much adoration Timmy wants to cry, but all he feels is the cloud of contentment that comes after a good lovemaking (and he now knows, a very good piss.) “You should get up soon, your ride is almost there.” Timmy’s eyes widen and he cringes, looking down at his ruined designer pants.

“How am I going to deal with…?” Timmy bit his lip and Armie smirked lightly at him.

“The more normal you act, the less they’ll stare.” Armie’s voice was steady but the flush in his cheeks indicated just the knowledge that he made Timmy piss himself and then walk through the bowels of this event space in his soaked pants, was going to be more than enough to get him through the month in terms of jerk-off fantasies.

“Asshole.” Timmy mumbled but he couldn’t keep the affectionate smile off his face.

“Go on now, go hop in your getaway car and there will be presents waiting for you at the hotel.”

“‘Kay. I love you.” Timmy blew him a kiss and Armie smiled, blowing one right back.

“I love you too Timmy, so, so fucking much.” It was always hard to hang up, and as usual, they took a few seconds to just admire each other’s faces before one of them hung up.

Standing up, there was absolutely no way he could hide what had just happened. The fabric was saturated and starting to cool, so he might as well get a move on. His jacket pulled on again, sunglasses covering his eyes, he peeped out into the hallway. There was no one coming immediately from either direction, so he put on his best confident strut and made his way towards the back of the building.

He was seen, at least a couple times. Once by a pair of waitresses making out in a shadowy corner, and at least twice by janitors, eyeing his trousers suspiciously as if it would contain clues to where Timmy had left a puddle of piss. He felt bad, but it couldn’t be helped at this point.

The exit was through the stairwell, a handsome young man, one of the models, raised a brow at him before Timmy could creep out the back door, closing it tight and pressing his back against it. Out in the cold, he couldn’t hold back as shiver as his wet pants clung to his long, slim legs.

His phone buzzed. A text from Pauline?

**YKINMKBYKIOK**

As he was trying to puzzle out the letters, a light honk yanked him out of his thoughts. A cute, and very, very familiar little hatchback had rolled up, the window dropping as Pauline leaned over.

“I heard you needed emergency extraction.”

“Um…” 

Pauline rolled her eyes.

“‘Your kink is not my kink but your kink is okay.’” Pauline rattled off, making her little brother blush beet red. “I don’t know why you and Armie are always pissing on each other, but if that’s you guys thing, that’s your thing. Now do you want a ride or not?”

“Yes please!” Still embarrassed but grateful of his sister’s acceptance and willingness to help, he scrambled into the passenger seat, noting that two thick towels had already been laid down to protect the upholstery. Pauline drove off just as quickly as she had appeared, effortlessly guiding the car in the direction of the hotel. Timmy was most definitely still embarrassed, but also curious. “How did you know that’s um, one of our kinks?”

Pauline rolled her eyes.

“Your kitchen rug changes every time I come over. One of the couch cushions is on permanent “do not flip over” status, and every time I stay over, the hallway in the morning smells like someone put pee in a diffuser so I assume you two spend your showers doing lots of things that aren’t getting clean.” Every point Pauline rattled off turned him redder and had him hiding his face in his hands. “It’s okay, weirdo.” She shoved his shoulder, then ruffled his hair. “I knew Armie was a kinky bastard, so of course to fit him so well, you would be too.”

“Armie’s not quite…” Well, Armie had a LOT of kinks, but he’d introduced each of them to Timmy so gently, so tastefully, that none of what they did felt wrong, but like just another way to bring each other pleasure. “Well he is kinky, but…”

“Timmy, he has a Pinterest dedicated to ways he wants to tie you up.”

“Armie has a Pinterest?” Timmy asked, before the rest of the sentence caught up. “Wait, how did you…”

“He left the browser open, little brother. I had to borrow his laptop to check my email cause my phone died the last time I was in New York, and yes, he has a Pinterest and it’s full of all kinds of shit he wants to do to you. What’s this thing about hanging upside down from the ceiling?”

Timmy went so red he felt hot and a little faint, but Pauline apparently had figured out a lot of Armie and his sex lives, so the little brother in him took over, his new goal: TMI.

“Oh yeah, we want to make sure his new condo has ceilings high enough to he can install a hook and hang me upside down at just the right height so he can suck my cock while I suck his--”

“I don’t need those kinds of details.” Pauline squealed, smacking him again.

“Are you sure? You’re asking too many questions about my sex life to not hear how much he loves to suck on my balls before he eats me out. The things he does with his tongue before he--”

“No, no, no, LA LA LA LA! I can’t hear youuuuu!” Pauline yelled as Timmy dissolved into giggles for the rest of the trip back to the hotel.

***

He had gotten a few sideways glances at the hotel, but he’d had enough time to collect himself, appear calm as he strolled through the lobby in his still-soaked designer pants.

Thankfully, the elevator was empty and there were only a couple members of the housekeeping staff. They didn’t look too closely at him, just said their evening greetings and Timmy quietly returned them. They probably saw all kinds of weird shit, so a celebrity peeing on himself would be nothing.

Unlocking his room door and finally stepping inside, he was pleased to find a bottle of one of his favorite white wines from Crema chilling on the desk, his mouth watering at the box of treats from his favorite chocolatier in New York. A box sat on the bed as well, with a note on it: 

_ ‘Dear T, you’re amazing. Go take a shower, put these on, and get cozy. I love you and miss you like crazy. -- A’ _

Not one to ignore Armie’s instructions, he went to the bathroom, hanging his wet pants over the edge of the jacuzzi tub before getting in the shower. As soon as the hot water sprayed down on him, he peed again, long and relieving but not as rushed and sharp as last time.

Washing took no time at all, and as soon as he was dry and his hair fluffed, he returned to the bedroom, opening the wine and pouring himself a glass to set on the nightstand. Carefully, he selected a few of his favorites from the chocolates and took them over on tissues so they wouldn’t stain the bedside table.

At last he was able to bust into the box on the bed, smiling at the adorable plush honey badger and thick, cozy socks sitting on top of what looked like a very comfortable pair of silk pajamas. He immediately dropped his towel and squirmed into them before settling, contented, on the bed, holding onto the plush toy. Armie knew exactly how to spoil him.

After a few sips of wine and a chocolate or two, he found himself yawning. He reached out to move the box off the bed but it almost bent his wrist, still surprisingly heavy. Peering inside, he realized his love of fancy pajamas had him almost missing out on the most important of gifts, a note with Armie’s loopy script folded into it.

_ ‘I know it’s not the same as me being there, but never forget how much I love you. You’re absolutely perfect (at least for me) and I can’t wait till the day I get to tell you how much I want to spend forever with you.’ _

Unloading the heavy wool from the box, he collapsed back into his pillow, curling up small to use the patterned tan, grey, and black jacket as his blanket, breathing in crisp winter air, cologne, and the little hint of something that was all Armie.

Tugging the coat a little tighter, his eyes easily fell shut, warm and content as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can play with me on tumblr at findmecallingyou.  
> *hides from this chapter*

**Author's Note:**

> Play with me on tumblr: findmecallingyou!


End file.
